


Constitution Park

by Deannie



Series: Things to Do on Your Day Off [1]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Challenge: Fourth of July, Holiday: 4th, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-07-10
Updated: 1997-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:54:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suffering from a migraine on the fourth of July, Jim needs Blair to re-establish his control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constitution Park

DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em, shouldn't use 'em, don't care . All characters belong to Pet Fly and UPN. 

RATING: R/NC-17 

NOTES: Answer to the Fourth challenge. A little late, I know, but... (shrug). Shameless, pointless, pwp. 

## Constitution Park

by Dean Warner

Blair Sandburg was worried. He'd sent his partner to bed just before dark, white noise generators in place, blinds securely shut against what would soon be a mad display of lights in the distance. 

Independence Day. Hell of a time to get a migraine, Jim. 

Well, Blair would do what he could do ease the pain that he *knew* all his precautions couldn't prevent. He had some tea brewing, chamomile, to soothe his partner's headache, and he'd made sure that the phone was unplugged. 

Hopefully, that would be all that was needed--that, and a little TLC, which he was only too happy to provide. Blair wondered at the changing feelings he had for Jim. At first, Jim had been exactly what Blair had said he was: "my thesis". Then, he was a roommate, a partner, a friend, and finally... 

Well, not a lover, of course. Not in any *literal* sense of the word. No, Jim was... a soulmate. Blair needed him, and the anthropologist liked to think that Jim needed *him* as well. 

He heard the distant bang of a street kid's firecracker, and the accompanying groan from his friend upstairs. Jesus, he thought, hurrying to Jim's bedside and sitting down gently. If just a firecracker set him off like this, what would the Sentinel do when the evening's festivities began in earnest? 

"I can't block it out, Sandburg," Jim whispered, the sound filling his head with needles. He hadn't had a migraine like this in ages, and he wondered which of Blair's gods he'd offended to suffer such a bad one tonight. 

He felt Blair's hand on his arm, rubbing up and down in a soothing rhythm that seemed to bring him at least a small measure of comfort. 

"It's okay, Jim," Blair whispered soothingly. "Just relax. Let the white noise block out the sound." 

Another firecracker exploded, this one too close by, and Jim whimpered angrily at the sound. 

"Got anything stronger?" he asked, his teeth gritted against another swell of pain. "These generators just aren't cutting it." 

Blair's hand never stopped its motion, and he leaned in carefully, letting his other hand drift calmly across Jim's forehead. He didn't even notice he was doing it, until Jim let out a slightly less painful sigh. 

"That helps," the Sentinel whispered, wincing--though not quite as badly as before--when another firecracker shouted into the darkness. 

Blair nodded to himself and rose, stopping only briefly as Jim grabbed his hand. 

"Don't worry, Big Guy," the younger man whispered. "I'm just going to get a wet washcloth for your eyes." He squeezed the hand that held him before pulling away. "I'll be right back." 

Jim's headache grew in the few scant minutes that Blair was gone, and he curled into a ball on his side, crying silently for the pain to just *stop*. It had never been this bad before--had never magnified his hearing until every whisper and squeak around him was an enemy. 

He was surprised to find that Blair's almost-silent footsteps on the stairs weren't as painful as they should have been. The younger man's weight on the mattress was actually a comfort. 

"Jim?" Blair placed the towel quietly on the bedside table, mindful of the glass and clock, which could jar together noisily. He slid back carefully until he was seated behind his friend, his legs hanging off the bed in front of the larger man, and started rubbing carefully at Jim's back, using long, soothing strokes. 

"Just relax, man," he whispered, his voice deep and throaty as he tried to keep the volume down. "Just relax, let it go... Let the pain go." 

He listened carefully, hearing Jim's labored breathing even out slightly. The larger man settled back, so that his feet lay in Blair's lap as he curled into the pain. 

"That makes it better, Chief," Jim whispered. "Thanks." 

Blair smiled, knowing that his friend couldn't see it. "Anytime, Jim... Anytime."  
  


* * *

He was starting to get a crick in his shoulder from the constant movement of his hand against Jim's back, but Blair wasn't about to stop. The fireworks would begin in earnest in a little while, and Constitution Park was just blocks away. The noise was going to be enough to drive *him* crazy, and he didn't have the mixed blessing of Sentinel ears. 

"How you doing, Jim?" 

There was an almost-contented rumble from the man before him. "Better." 

"They're going to start soon." 

Jim nodded in the semi-darkness. "I know. Just don't stop, okay? I think I can deal with it if you don't stop." 

"Don't worry, I won't," Blair promised, shifting his shoulder slightly to ease the stiffness. "Just try to relax. Maybe, if we're lucky--" 

He didn't get a chance to say more, as a distant rumble began, growing in intensity as the display across town started up. 

Jim sat bolt upright, trying to cover his ears without dislodging the white noise generators that were keeping the worst of the noise at bay. "Oh *Jesus*!" 

"It's okay, Jim. It's okay!" Blair tried to get his partner to lie down, but the larger man pulled his knees up to his chest, every muscle tightening against the pain. "Come on, Jim," Blair begged, trying to soothe the Sentinel the only way he could, running his hand down that broad, muscular back. "Come on, man, just try to relax--" 

Constitution Park started up now, and Jim whimpered helplessly. Blair had no idea now how to help, and what he did, he did out of instinct. As his arms came around the larger man, he scooted up on the bed, so that his legs encircled him, his hands running carefully down the Sentinel's chest. 

Jim didn't talk, didn't make a sound above a whimper, and Blair put his head on the rocking man's shoulder, shushing quietly in his ear, trying to block out the fireworks with his own white noise. 

"How much longer?" Jim finally gasped, letting his weight fall back onto his partner a bit more, so that Blair was cradling him up against the headboard. "They don't usually last this long, do they?" 

Blair wondered for a moment whether Jim was talking about the fireworks display or his migraine. Regardless, Blair knew it wouldn't quiet down outside for more than an hour at least. After the displays were over, there would be thousands of honking cars, all trying to escape the scene of the crime. 

He hit upon the idea suddenly, damning himself for not thinking of it sooner. 

"Jim?" he whispered, keeping his head on his partner's shoulder as his hands started a sliding rhythm on Jim's chest. "Try this... Concentrate on the feeling of my hands on your chest. Forget the noise, forget the headache. Just concentrate on the movement..." 

Jim took a shuddering breath, trying to tune into his tactile sense as he clearly heard the band playing the 1812 Overture over in Constitution Park. Two small, warm hands circled each other on his chest, overlapping occasionally with a silky scratch of skin... Over and over... He felt his nipples tingling, felt the warmth of the body at his back... 

It was no surprise to him when he felt himself harden. 

He rumbled deep in his throat, feeling the pain finally start to recede from his temples as his body responded to his Guide. "God, Chief..." 

Blair heard something in his partner's voice, and wondered if his own mind was making it up. Jim sounded so... needy. The nipples beneath his constantly roaming hands were now hard, sharp nubs, and even he could feel the heat building between them. 

"Jim..." 

He could feel the Sentinel's muscles relaxing, as the larger man leaned back farther, his hips settling into Blair's crotch with a distressing heaviness. Blair tried to make his body obey him, but this close, this intimate... His hands stilled in shock. 

"Hey Chief," Jim murmured, wincing again as the park across town reached its show's climax. "I think this is working." *In more ways than one,* he thought with a smile as he felt his partner hardening under his weight. "Keep going. The noises aren't so bad now." 

Blair's hands were tentative now, and Jim leaned back more, reveling in the feeling of Blair's erect cock as it dug into his ass. He realized suddenly that he wanted it to dig in *more*--and he didn't want any clothing to get in the way. 

Blair lay still, save the roaming of his hands, as he felt the headboard digging into the small of his back. This couldn't be happening--it *shouldn't* be happening! Jim was so straight, so... 

"A little lower, Chief," Jim begged softly. "Please." 

A little lower it was, then. Blair's hands moved to Jim's stomach, coasting softly over rock-hard abs. God, that body! How could he *not* be turned on by this man he cradled in his arms. A perfect body, a perfect soul... 

"Lower." 

It was a focussing sound, and Blair responded immediately, one hand straying as far as Jim's hips, skating back to his stomach as the fingers encountered a growing erection. 

Oh God! This just couldn't be happening! 

This just *had* to happen, Jim realized. He needed this--he needed Blair... The headache was nearly gone now, and in its place was a growing hunger. He could feel Blair's need as well, smell the soft scent of his arousal. 

"Chief," he whispered, trying to stop himself from wincing as Constitution Park's fireworks display started its slow rise toward climax. He turned slightly, curling one hand around his partner's body so that Blair wasn't so much cradling as hugging him. 

"Jim, what's going on here?" Blair's voice was unsteady, and Jim rumbled in quiet amusement, as his overly sensitive arm felt the heat and solidity of Blair's erection below it. 

He reached up a hand, shifting so that he could cup his Guide's cock gently through the light fabric of Blair's summer shorts. "I need a distraction, Chief." 

Blair laughed a little hysterically. "*This* kind of distraction?" he asked, disbelieving. 

Jim scooted up, covering Blair's mouth with his own, his soft, warm tongue resting politely on Blair's full lips, asking for entry. The Sentinel growled pleasantly when his Guide opened his mouth in answer, allowing Jim to explore him in a way neither of them had ever experienced before. 

They came apart when oxygen could no longer be done without, and Blair's hysterical laugh was back, tempered now by his desire. 

"Hey, Jim," he asked quietly, groaning as Jim started to work on his neck. "Man, you've still got a migraine. Can't you burst a blood vessel or something, doing this?" 

Jim kissed his way back to his partner's lips, and smiled. "Probably." 

Blair let his mouth be taken, wishing suddenly that Jim would stop being so polite. He'd done this before, after all. He wasn't an amateur! He smiled when he felt a light, teasing bite on his shoulder. That was more like it. "Hell of a way to go, huh?" 

Jim nodded. "Yeah. You have too many clothes on." 

"So do you, Big Guy," Blair agreed, trying to pull his shirt off without disturbing Jim's neck-biting too much. It was a brief interruption, to be sure, but Jim just went right back to it, moving down to the exposed nipples. 

Luckily, Jim was wearing a button-down shirt--no undershirt, not with this heat--so he never had to stop while Blair divested him of it. 

Pants were, if anything, easier to get rid of, and Jim took his time removing Blair's boxers, taking time to admire his partner. God... He wanted that inside him... He wanted it inside him *now*. He started at Blair's stomach, relentless sucks and licks headed toward that gorgeous cock. 

Blair was a step ahead of him, at least in one respect, and had reached over to the bedside table, searching in the drawer for something he wondered whether he'd find. What would it mean if he did? Granted, *he* had lube and condoms in *his* bedside table, but he'd always thought of Jim as a little straighter than-- 

Nope, he thought, smiling as Jim shot back up briefly to nibble not-so-lightly on his nipple ring. There it was. 

"Jim, buddy," he smiled as Jim whined when the anthropologist put some distance between them. "Come on, man. Let's at least have *some* kind of safety here." 

When he started to reach for Jim's cock, the older man shook his head. "No." 

Blair was just slightly confused. Okay, maybe this was too fast for Jim. Cuddling and heavy petting were one thing--even a nice, thorough blow job--but maybe Jim wasn't willing to go... that... 

"Jim," he asked, a little breathless as Jim cupped his balls slightly, squeezing until Blair felt his heart stop. "What... What are you doing?" 

The Sentinel smiled, loving the feeling of Blair's sac. He could feel every nuance of texture, every variation of texture. He took the open condom packet from his partner, moving his hand to carefully hold Blair's now-pulsing cock. "You wanted to be safe, right?" 

The first feeling of Jim's hand on his shaft had started Blair's heart again. Was the detective being *serious* here? 

As he felt the condom rolling gently down that shaft, accompanied by Jim's gentle stroking, Blair realized that Jim was indeed deadly serious. 

Jim's seductive application of a little lube to his partner's sheathed member was all Blair needed to decide that *he* was serious, too. He surprised himself by pulling Jim, face-down, down next to him, rolling himself quickly, so that he sat atop that broad, tight back. 

"If you bust something in that thick skull of yours, Jim," he whispered, stretching the length of Jim's body to whisper in the big man's ear. "You better make sure I don't get blamed." He kissed the back of Jim's neck briefly. "After all, *you* started this." 

"'Sokay," Jim murmured huskily. "I left a suicide note on the table downstairs." He breathed deeply as Blair moved back down his body, and slipped one lubed finger into his ass. "I chose to be fucked to death on Independence Day." 

Blair felt Jim's muscles relax around him and slipped in another finger, thrilling at his partner's satisfied gasp. "That's very patriotic of you." 

Jim bucked impatiently, sighed contentedly when Blair finally thrust a third finger in, sliding the group gently in and out with a sample of things to come. "I'm like that," he breathed hungrily. "Selfless Ranger to the end." 

Blair's chuckle was felt in Jim's thighs, and it caused him to rise up slightly, desperately wanting something more than a simple play of fingers. 

"Okay," Blair agreed, sliding off of Jim's legs to kneel between them as he grasped his partner's hips and gently pulled them up. "As long as all the paperwork is already done." 

It was a feeling that Blair knew he would never experience quite the same way again. Jim was giving himself to him. Totally, selflessly... Somehow, the feeling of slipping into a lover's body could never have the same sensation it did now. 

Jim no longer heard the fireworks down the street, though Constitution Park was undoubtedly out-doing itself again this year. All he heard was the blood in his ears, the rising heartbeat of his partner, and the sweet sound of Blair's thighs lightly hitting his ass. 

He couldn't have wished for anything more... 

Until Blair's right hand released Jim's right hip and reached around to grasp the detective's throbbing cock, pumping lightly in counterpoint to the thrusts that were tearing Jim apart bit by joyful, needy little bit. 

"Oh, God... Oh, God..." 

Blair smiled at his partner's response, the guttural moans sounding like the best music. He could feel himself coming to the edge, could feel Jim shuddering beneath him... 

And far off, he could hear Constitution Park's display reaching its climax. 

As Jim shook from their double coming, Blair slipped his cock free and lowered himself onto the big man's back, allowing Jim to ease himself exhaustedly onto the mattress. Blair stretched until his mouth was once again at Jim's ear, as he felt his partner relax fully. 

"Some fireworks, huh?" Blair teased lightly. 

Jim lay boneless beneath him, headache gone, ears hearing only the white noise of his partner's heartbeat. 

"The best show yet," he agreed, reaching back to twine his fingers with Blair's. 

They fell asleep before the crowds got out of Constitution Park.  
  


* * *

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